Flashes
by bigblueboat
Summary: Flash Fiction (100-200 word pieces) written for Thimble's weekly challenges. Any pairings are possible. Some tend to take on a darker twist which is why I've rated these M. There may be Twific (AU or AH), OFic, poetry, and slash involved, though nothing graphic.
1. Week 3

Thimbles hosts this writing exercise called fanficflashfic. You can check it out at fanficflashfic -dot- blogspot -dot- com.

The author has 24 hours to write 100-200 words inspired by the prompt. It can be fanfic with any pairing, original fic, short stories, or poems. Here I will post the entries and sometimes the full length piece before I edited it down to the required limits.

Week 3's prompt can be found here: bit -dot - ly / 16nked1 Just remove spaces and insert a period where it says :-}

* * *

Overpowering all of her senses, the water-filled, glass coffin enshrouds her reality. Before succumbing back to the darkness, she quickly rethinks the last hour.

She knew the date was a bad idea. All her instincts told her Riley would twist this evening into heartache, yet she was tired of spending another night alone on the couch. Before her roommate had taken off, she had warned her to stay in crowded locations, to drive herself, and to watch out for the killer. Bree didn't see anything wrong with the guy picking her up on the first date, and the intimate dinner Riley said he had prepared sounded like the perfect way to get to know him better.

Nothing appeared out of the ordinary to Bree as they entered; it looked like a typical bachelor pad. Therefore, the feel of something covering her mouth as she slipped out of her jacket took her by surprise.

Waking up as the water covered her completely and the lid was sealed in place, she grasped that she was the next victim.

As the last bubble escapes her lungs and the blackness covers her vision, Bree accepts that she should have listened to her roommate.

* * *

A/N This piece won second place. Not too shabby for my first foray into fiction in a few years.

Word count: 199


	2. Week 4

Week 4's prompt is a quote: "Time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life." - Brian Andreas

* * *

_Pop! Freezing water cascades against my back, slowly dripping onto the waistband of my shorts. Ducking behind the closest bush, I grab the next grenade from my supply. I ready my aim, spotting the culprit of my soaked back. Wide, the throw always goes wide – something else I need to work on to keep up with the older kids. I watch as it explodes on the cement, splashing Dad's baby toe and the legs of the grill. Indicating that I correctly appointed the blame, Emmett tries to hide his smirk._

_Sitting down to dinner, Dad helps me break the last balloon over Emmett's dry head and burger. I work to repress my giggles. As Emm starts to whine, Mom cuts in. "You did over cook the meat. Your dad was just trying to replace some moisture."_

I glance at my husband and dad loitering near the grill. Everyone else is trying to escape the heat by playing in the water, Emmett dunking anyone that comes near.

The newborn stirs, demanding my attention. Observing her cousins before giving in to her complaints, I whisper, "I have faith that your daddy will have better luck teaching you to throw than mine did.

* * *

A/N I wrote this from Alice's POV with the newborn being Bella's and Edward's. I'm not sure that is what most people read it as. Oh well. One can only do so much with 200 words.

Word Count: 200


	3. Week 5

Week five's prompt was the music video for Prime Circle's Breathing. It can be found here: youtu - dot - be / 3-ChFUD5OKY

* * *

One fight, one cousin, one shattering of dreams.

My best friend has taken over the life I had planned, we had planned.

When I look back, I see things I could have changed, things he could have done differently. Yet, he was the one insisting it was over when I was willing to fight for us.

Watching him now, I can see why he gave up on me, on us. I don't remember his eyes shining as brightly when looking at me. The small brushes of his fingers against her hand never happened between us.

After glancing at them one more time, I pull my backpack onto my shoulder. Returning to my car I whisper goodbye to everyone I know, the life that could have been.

Driving out of the parking lot, I try not to look in the review mirror. The images still flash before me: the rings that will never be exchanged, the tears shed over our first son taking his first breath, the fights over the last bite of lo-mein.

Taking the right turn onto the highway, I wipe the tears away and look forward.

* * *

A/N Leah always has to make the hard decisions. This was part of the inspiration for the piece I'm currently working on.

Word Count: 188


	4. Week 9

Week 9's prompt: Some nights I lay in bed and imagine what I'd be doing if you were with me.

* * *

Midnight phone call. Hushed words. The crackle of clothes being pulled on after I diligently worked on removing them.

You whispered words about protection and honor. Tears fell. Promises were made. You brushed a last kiss against my forehead, turned and headed out the door.

You had been trying to convince me it was time to grow our family. Neither of us knew, but we had already started the growth.

The morning puking. The afternoon cravings for fish and chips. The hours I wanted to have you worship my body and was left with plastic and memories.

I gently put my hand over my extended stomach to calm the poking foot of our child – one you have yet to properly meet.

The red pen dangling on the wall by the calendar mocks me from my supine position on our bed. I struggle out of bed and force the whiteboard to bleed our pain as another day is crossed off.

Tonight I'm left wondering if you are to be back to hear her first cry.

* * *

Word count: 174


	5. Week 10

Week 10's prompt: "When I saw you, I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew." This was incorrectly attributed to Shakespeare. It is actually by Arrigo Boito

* * *

Your smile over a Macchiato let me know the truth: we were meant to be. I smiled back, sipped my tea and returned to my copy of the Sunday crossword.

She interrupted us, claiming you for herself when we both knew what the stars foretold.

You met me again the following Sunday, the crossword puzzle tucked under your arm. This time she was nowhere to be seen. I was glad we would be spending time alone.

Last weekend she decided to make another appearance, trying to get me to leave you be. But, how can I do that? You are mine, as I am yours.

I followed her. I just wanted her to understand that she was in the way of our love.

She was the one to put up a fight. Had she not, eternal sleep would have come peacefully. Instead there were punches, scratches and breaks.

You rushed in with the cops, tears pouring from your eyes when you spotted us.

I know you recognized the fresh bruises on my face and arms as proof of our love.

Don't worry. She can't keep us apart any longer, neither will these iron bars. We're destined to be together.

* * *

Word count: 199

A/N This first piece won second place. However, I was writing with hummingbirdFF that week and this is the fluffy response we came up with:

* * *

Yesterday I got my hopes up. She had the perfect-sized scratchers that reached through the divide. I knew she would play well. The giant two-legged next to her said I was too small, that I would make too much noise. They left without me.

My mom taught me to be polite: no biting, no roughhousing with the two-leggeds, and no peeing on carpets. Apparently I didn't learn fast enough. The first two-leggeds still put me here, behind the links with no bones or green balls to gnaw on.

Today has been quiet. No two-leggeds have shown up, and I've already chased the butterflies.

I wait for my dinner. Instead of blue, I see a new giant's paws as they pass by me. He doesn't bother to stop and give me attention. However, on his way back to the door, he stops to look at me, sounds coming from his mouth. His scratchers are too big to reach me. I give them a small lick.

My door swings open, and he squishes me against his fur. "Play?" I ask, tail wagging. He stands up with me still clasped in his non-legs. Teeth appear. I take that as a yes.

Word count: 198


	6. Week 11

Week 11's prompt is a piece from Dancing with the Stars: youtu -dot- be / QZ-1cq8ibwg

hummingbirdFF is a huge fan of the show. I didn't use much from the dance as inspiration but the lyrics to the song. This is also a piece that the original flash was way to long. Here is what I submitted:

* * *

The first day I stand fidgeting and regretting getting into the skin-tight leotard.

"First lesson is to get to the platform. If at any point you get freaked, just climb back down. You will be refunded immediately. This isn't for the faint of heart. The second lesson will be to soar." With that he turns and starts the long climb up the ladder.

Minutes pass as I continue to advance skyward. I reach the platform, and the instructor speaks up again. "To be successful, you can't be afraid of the fall. I want you to jump, dive, or just free fall. Make sure to land on your back with your head tucked into your chest then roll to the side." He dives, spins and twirls eventually landing on his back. I take the first step to the edge. I fly: wind pushing my hair back, arms spread wide, adrenaline rushing through me.

It has been five years since that first leap. I defy you with each completed somersault and every time I grasp my catcher's wrists or the swinging bar. I've learned to fly without the fall.

Yet I can't help but soar first thing every Monday.

Word count: 197

* * *

This is what the first draft looked like:

The first day I stand fidgeting and regretting getting into the skin-tight leotard. The two other newcomers look more confident. Their desire to be here is obviously stronger than mine.

Pulled from my musing the instructor begins. "First lesson is to get to the platform. If at any point you get freaked, just climb back down and go to the front office. You will be refunded immediately. This isn't for the faint of heart. The second lesson will be to soar." With that he turns and starts the long climb up the ladder.

The other students go ahead of me. The first one makes it a quarter of the way before looking down and going pale. He quickly back-pedals down the steps and heads out. The second classmate makes it all the up, indicating my turn.

Minutes pass as I continue to advance. I reach the platform, and the instructor speaks up again. "To be successful, you can't be afraid of the fall. I want you to jump, dive, or just free fall. Make sure to land on your back with your head tucked into your chest then roll to the side." He dives, spins and twirls eventually landing on his back. We look at each other. I take the first step to the edge. I fly: wind pushing my hair back, arms spread wide, adrenaline rushing through me.

It has been five years since that first leap. Yet I can't help but soar first thing every Monday, reminding myself why I decided to fly and fight gravity's hold.

Word count: 259


	7. Week 12

Week 12's prompt can be found here: bit -dot- ly / 17o2Ghb

The picture inspired a bit of a fantasy:

* * *

In the shade of the oak, the babe sleeps.

Screaming erupts from within, exploding out into the yard where the oak lies.

Across the street, the nana watches and prepares her spell.

Pulling the stuffed animal from the cauldron, the witch sings the last of the incantation and forces the protector into the fabricated black wolf.

The debris from the sparring couple inches closer and closer to the babe.

Innocently taking a walk around the block, the witch deposits the protector next to the arms of the babe.

Waking to a particularly vicious scream and a man looming over her, the babe grasps the wolf, squeezing it for life. Whimpers release the protector from within. Cotton turns to bone, muscle, and fur. Gently pulling away from the babe, the wolf snaps and snarls at the one he deems a threat. The cretin ignores the protector, reaching once again for the babe. The protector proves to be more nimble, enacting swift justice as teeth rip through reaching fingers.

The parent retreats.

The nana goes back inside; the babe's future is once again cast with light.

The wolf cuddles, metamorphosing back to cotton.

Sleep reclaims the babe.

* * *

word count: 195


	8. Week 13

Prompt: bit -dot - ly / 13goN2X

Week 13's prompt inspired a bit of poetry:

* * *

one life becomes two

caresses cease

shared plates split to two and dwindle down to one

cold linens; only one half of tousled sheets

late nights in the office increase in frequency

comfort sought

lipstick stains appear and odd fragrances linger

words thrown in heat quickly followed by lamps and picture frames

doors slam, tires screech

comfort sought

blubbered words escape

words offered to placate

tears pour down a phone line

comfort sought

pounding on a door

muffled words that can't be deciphered through the connection

a call forgotten

comfort overheard

dots connect

scents and lipstick shades belong to the other end of the line

their evasive tactics overlapping

comfort sought yet held out of reach

* * *

word count: 116

This was out of my comfort zone. When I normally write poetry, it stays hidden in my journal. hummingbirdFF and Tiramisue84 convinced me I should submit this.


	9. Week 15

There were two prompts for week 15. First one: bit - dot- ly / 10Fpels

and the second one: / 13gmywq

Warning there is implied drug use in this drabble.

* * *

We laid around, staring up at the few stars peaking through the clouds and palm trees.

"Dude, I need some grub. I can't believe we forgot to pack snacks."

"Yes! Funyuns would definitely hit the right spot after those brownies."

"Stupid small town. Ain't nothin' open past nine."

"Not true. If we take the boats down river, there is an old Chinese place open till two a.m."

"I guess sweet and sour chicken will have to do."

Struggling to get to their feet, the three boys stumbled across the small island toward their boats.

They all clamored into the boat and pushed off into the river. Letting the current do the work, they floated along.

Halfway down the river, one of them spoke up. "Guys, where are the oars?"

"How can I be left to do everything? Couldn't one of you have thought to throw them in while I pushed us off?"

Stranded in the middle of the river, the boys drooled as they drifted past the colorful neon lights from the Chinese restaurant.

"Dude, wish we still had an oar. I could really dig into some sweet and sour chicken."

* * *

Word count: 191


	10. Week 16

Although week 16's prompt seems fairly benign, my mind went to a rather interesting place. bit -dot- ly / 118xUni

Warning this drabble deals with teen pregnancy and other taboo topics.

* * *

They did everything together. Why would I say no to an innocent dance?

They left out the part where it was under the Milky Way in isolation instead of at the high school gym, horizontal instead of vertical.

Now look at them, trying to be adults while still in the bodies of juveniles. Brochures, resumes and baby books stretched out on the coffee table.

I tried to warn them about the consequences of actions. We spoke about sex since they started asking about where they came from and the differences between their bodies. I took them both to the clinics, making sure they at least knew where to turn if the time came.

Never, even in my wildest dreams, did I imagine they would turn toward each other.

What parent would think such a thing would even need to be explicitly stated? Maybe this is where I went wrong, though. Maybe I should have pointed that out to them.

It seems I failed at teaching them two important life lessons.

Twins, or any siblings for that matter, shouldn't love each other that way.

And, there is no such thing as completely safe sex.

* * *

Word Count: 193

A huge thanks to Tiramisue84 for helping get this piece right.


	11. Week 17

Week 17's prompt: bit -dot- ly / 118zo0T

This week's prompt made me feel a lil romantic... I'm going to blame hormones for going sappy on you

I'm also not going to include the shortened piece. I feel that a lot had to be chopped to fit the 200 word limit. You are more than welcome to check out fanficflashfic -dot- blogspot -dot- com to check out the abridged piece and the other entries.

Warning: This has femslash but nothing graphic

* * *

I never thought I'd see the day where I could hang my lacy things up with Bella's. Society's expectations had forced me to hide. Who wants to look at the lingerie model knowing she bats for the other team? So I played their game, dragging male friends to the parties and letting the public think what they wanted. By the sixth year of my self-imposed celibacy, I was ready to quit, go hide in a cave, pretend that I wasn't recognized everywhere I went.

She was at the next photo-shoot. I don't know how I could have not known about such competition. True, we didn't look much alike, but I could see how she would be the one to replace me on magazine covers, the next top model. At the end of the shoot, she came over to introduce herself. She was just being polite, right? The industry hadn't beaten manners out of her yet. She asked if I knew of a place with great tacos and if I wanted to join her for a meal. I shrugged and said sure. The smirk that crossed her face should have clued me in. I guess, at the time, it had just been too long since I got hit on by a woman to notice. That first dinner quickly morphed into others.

By the fourth night out, I finally noticed. She kept brushing up against me, touching my hand, sending dirty looks to anyone who even chanced to look at us. It was also the night the paparazzi snapped pictures of us. My PR agent exploded at me while we were in the taxi on the way to my home. Bella grabbed the phone, firing him on the spot before the first tear fell over the curve of my chin. She dialed her own PR manager, taking care of everything in under thirty seconds.

I broke down in her arms that night. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I didn't feel the need to put on a face, hide behind the persona I thought the world wanted to see.

The next morning I awake dreading what I'd hear in my voicemail, see in the new comments online. The world shocked me. The majority of the messages were supportive, applauding us for not hiding our love, being amazing role-models for their children. I dialed Bella and told her to come to breakfast. I ranted and freaked; she sat there sipping coffee, eating mango and smiling. I'm not sure how far into the rant I got before her lips touched mine, but I froze.

She pulled back; her forehead knit into a web of lines. "I thought you wanted this, us. You kept saying yes to the dates, didn't flip when I took control last night and had my PR guy issue a statement about us being together. What's wr—"

I knew better than to let her get the wrong idea. But who wouldn't freeze when everything fell into place? I no longer had to hide. The fans didn't start throwing tomatoes and turn their backs on either of us. And, she kissed me and mentioned something about dates... we went on dates? That was something to discuss after I was done kissing her.

That was six months ago. She moved in with me two weeks ago. This is the first time I've done our laundry. I really like looking at my purple lace next to her pink satins.

* * *

Word count: 581

I've thought about expanding this into a full one-shot. If anyone (other than hummingbirdFF) is interested, I'll do so.


	12. Week 18

Week 18's prompt: bit -dot- ly / 15nm7lj

* * *

They said there was no hope. They said I'd never feel them again. Never walk. Never run. Never even stand. One of them even had the nerve to say he doubted I'd be able to sit without being strapped in.

He blew into my life and told them all they were wrong, that we would prove them wrong. I desperately clung to his words, his hope.

A week later he introduced me to torture.

The water and devices helped keep me afloat and rebuild the muscles. I never thought I'd be so tired after splashing around for a few minutes.

Minutes reluctantly became hours before exhaustion hit.

I stopped cringing at the wrinkled skin and green hair and noticed the toned muscles redefine my body. One doctor after the next started to change their minds, agreeing that maybe he was right.

Yesterday I took my first step on land in over a year. I had almost collapsed overcome with joy, his arms wrapping around me keeping me upright.

As I float around today killing time before physiotherapy starts, I enjoy the feel of the water dripping down one leg as I lift it above the water's surface.

Feeling had returned.

* * *

Word count: 200


	13. Week 19

Week 19's Prompt: No one is too old for fairy tales.

* * *

My five year old walked into the room, climbed next to me on the bed and patted my wings. "Can you tell me a story?"

I struggled for breath. "Not right now. Why don't you tell me one instead?"

Whispers of ninja princesses fighting evil unicorns freeing the sleeping fairies crossed into my medicated nightmares.

There were those who thought her pregnancy should have been ended, those that didn't believe in the miracle she has become. What they didn't realize was that she's the reason I've fought so hard to stay here, with them.

She had a smile and story to accompany each treatment, an escape from our world and the knowledge that each day I see her is another fairy tale come true.

I treasure each story captured by the recorder, playing each over and over during the jags of insomnia. When she was tiny, we would listen to the Grimm brothers' version of fairy tales, hoping to instill some sense of me that she can hold on to once I'm gone.

I've found that hers are more soothing.

Today's story took a different path. It ended with white clouds and wizards and no last kisses from ninja princesses.

* * *

200 words.

This tear jerker was awarded honorable mention.


	14. Week 20

There were two prompt's for this week's flash fic. Here is the one we drew inspiration from: bit -dot- ly / 15hmNGU

This is co-written by hummingbirdFF.

* * *

The floor slowly comes to life with the bass beat as I increase the volume on the stereo. Dust particles appear to be dancing around the sun-soaked room. The beat starts a burning path from the soles of my feet to my fingertips. The waves flow through my body, each measure enhancing the previous and forcing my limbs to move.

A push on my stomach reminds me I'm not alone. I have little arms and legs moving with me, within me. I place my hand on the spot where a tiny footprint has appeared—my little one already has a love for music.

I close my eyes and let my body flow with the rhythm pulsing through my veins.

A soft tap on my shoulder brings me out of my euphoria. Hands move through the air telling me that lunch is ready.

With a wistful smile, I turn down the stereo, but gentle hands halt my journey to the kitchen. My smile becomes elated as my husband bends down and places a reverent kiss just above my bellybutton. I watch his lips move and feel the vibration of his whispered words of love to our child.

_This is pure happiness._

* * *

Word count: 199

It seems like we were too subtle with this piece. When this week's judge, Ordinary Vamp, made comments, we realized that you don't always understand that the mother is deaf in this piece. Oh well. Live, learn and improve writing.


	15. Week 21

Week 21's prompt is Pearl Jam's Oceans. You can view the video here: bit -dot- ly / MbOcE1

* * *

Like ants trying to cross a stream, they continue on their lives, thinking they will have the last laugh. Little do they know that we foretell all.

Lachesis hits my shoulder. "Look at those two. Make them desire; make them feel. I want to see things unfold."

"Isn't that your job, sister?"

Time passes. The two notice each other: long walks, numerous caresses, vows spoken, new household created.

Lachesis never strays far from them, at least not for long. She watches with yearning, at times with breath abated. I bless them with another mouth to feed.

A family trip to the beach seems docile until Atropos walks up to our view and flicks her wrist. Lachesis cries out, even knowing what she previously wrote down.

A wave comes crashing over them; riptides reach, grasping at all three but only manage to drag two to sea, Poseidon claiming them as his own.

"Relax, sister. There is always the underworld for the remaining one to look forward to. They will be reunited there. Hades will claim the two taken by Poseidon and watch over them until we decide they shall meet again."

Removed, yet always watching, us three hold the strings.

* * *

199 words. This won honorable mention for "stepping outside of the box and twisting the prompt." Hope you enjoy this glimpse into Greek mythology.


	16. Week 22

This week's prompts from Bedelia: bit -dot- ly / 13bbhRH and bit -dot- ly / 150sX1E

Although she gave two, I only used the first one:

* * *

The three of us used to meet every year on this day, looking out over the city we grew up in.

Today is windier than last year; our hair flicks around our faces, distorting the view. A sigh comes from beside me. I turn.

"I don't get why she couldn't make it. I offered to pick her up."

"There are things you don't know about. She made me promise not to say anything." I take one last mental picture and push away from the railing. "Come on. Best we get going."

I drive us to our rundown neighborhood. Morgan's house looks as it always did—in desperate need of a lawnmower and fresh paint. I don't bother knocking and just walk in. The wheelchair takes up most of the front room. Morgan is sprawled on the couch.

"Hey Miranda, Ruth. Sorry I couldn't join you. I'm sorta stuck here." She waves her hand at her body.

"Don't worry. I'm sure we can sue about lack of wheelchair access."

I sit next to Morgan; Ruth's standing in the doorway, jaw on the floor.

"Triplets really do a number on your body. Make sure you two only have one at a time."

* * *

Final word count: 200


	17. Week 24

This week's prompt consisted of a quote and a picture. The picture can be seen here: bit -dot- ly / 18eeWBF remove spaces as usual

"I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything."  
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

I see those two over there, sipping coffee, laughing, judging. You seem oblivious to it all, brush in hand, canvas being splashed.

Last night I stood back, watching them corner you, demeaning you with words they didn't understand the true meaning of, thinking it would get them looked favorably upon by myself. Little did they know, it did the opposite. Why put down such an exquisite spirit as you?

The shot of whiskey thrown to the back of your throat. A hearty laugh that boomed over whatever repulsive words that died on their lips. My heart thumped a bit faster.

Your carefree ways that make me sing and write prose are frowned upon by others that don't understand. For that I pity them. They'll never understand the truth you have brought to my life.

They might be what society believes is acceptable, yet you live while they hide behind their veneers of long, plaited hair and powdered faces, sipping coffee and wines.

You turn to me, the canvas once more at your back. You don't ask or point; the mischievous look in your eyes tells me that it doesn't matter which color I provide next, you will make it work.

* * *

Word count: 200

This was a fun set of prompts to write for.


	18. Week 25

Prompt: Biffy Clyro's Opposite: you can watch it here: youtu –dot– be / wAWFcAfN3kc

**This first one was co-written by TiramiSue84 and comes in at 199 words.**

* * *

A bottle of amber liquid in one hand, I rip the tie off my neck with the other. Flashes of tonight's conversation pass in front of my eyes. Her gaze never holding mine; her touches—fleeting at best.

Watching her with him, seeing the smile, the lingering fingers against his arm: the pain rips through my chest.

I throw back another swallow, twisting the ring between my fingers, the one I intended to give her tonight.

Surely, it wasn't like that from the beginning. I remember when it felt like she wanted me as much as I wanted her. It was real—we were real. I refused to believe anything else.

After he returned to this city, things changed. Seeing as we share the same circle of friends, for them to reunite was inevitable.

Had she been honest—not only with me, but herself—we might have made it work, or at least called it quits on even terms. Sure, it would've pained me back then, but it's so much worse now.

After almost two years of this... this farce, I'm left bleeding.

One last gulp from the bottle; I throw both it and the diamond into the flames.

* * *

**This second one was a bit harder to write. Tissue warning has been issued:**

You smiled the first time we crossed paths.

You smiled after I asked you on our first date.

You smiled into our first kiss that lasted until your brother turned on the light, scaring us apart.

You screamed after the third negative pregnancy test.

You screamed in the doctor's office, scarcely waiting for his confirmation.

You screamed at the funeral, the tiny coffin being lowered into the ground.

You brushed me off.

You locked the pain inside.

You shut out the world, hoping to live in your dreams.

I lost my heart along with you.

I dragged us to the therapist.

I skidded along black ice and reached for your hand.

I see your chest rise and fall, your eyes fluttering.

I have a hard time breathing; something's pressing down, squeezing tight.

I can tell there's too much damage.

I can't let go without knowing you'll be okay.

I search out your eyes.

I try to express that I want you to find happiness again, that you should drop your walls, let someone else share the joy I've known loving you.

You smile.

You scream you love me.

You brush some blood from my face.

I close my eyes.

* * *

This second one also ended at 199 words and took second place.


	19. Week 26

This week's prompts:

bit -dot- ly / 18NyuwT

"Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. but when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars—a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they're gone."

~The Notebook

* * *

Since she started at the beginning of summer, I've wondered if she ever noticed me. She takes my money and hands me my coffee with a smile most days, just like every other schmuck who comes in here. She hasn't even memorized my order. What's so hard to recall about a double shot espresso?

I've noticed how her eyes light up when she laughs at a joke, sparkling behind those black, thick-framed glasses; how her socks never match when she comes out from behind the counter to sweep the floors; how she is more likely to flirt with male customers than female, although there are some exceptions... and yet, I don't get more than the basic "here's your drink" smile.

Today I broke from my usual routine and came in for caffeine at lunch. The shop was basically dead: one person in a suit pecking away at his laptop and the two baristas looking bored.

She looks up, our eyes meeting. "Hey, Ben. We missed you this morning."

Huh. I guess smiles and lack of memorized drink orders don't tell you everything.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed those 182 words of fluffiness.


	20. Week 27

There prompts inspired two flashes this week:

Do one thing every day that scares you. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

bit -dot- ly / 15gSJRj

* * *

I look in at the ten month old sleeping peacefully in the hospital crib, her purple cast a stark contrast to the white sheet it is laying on.

I was supposed to be the cool aunt. The one with the wacky ideas. The one who provides the first set of finger paints and the first pair of drumsticks. The one who returned the kids hopped up on sugar and covered in dirt at the end of a long day.

A little hand grasps my pinky, pulling me away from the view. When he notices he has my attention he asks, "Can we go home now?"

I take a deep breath and figure they wouldn't have left me this task if they didn't believe I wasn't up for it. "Why don't we go find a doctor and see if we can bring your sister with us?"

It was bad enough when I was orphaned at fourteen and he had to raise me. I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd have to return the favor to my brother with his own kids.

* * *

Word count 183

This second one can be seen in its shortened state on the blog: bit -dot- ly / 13t58j6

Here is what it looked like prior to cutting out words:

* * *

Every day I would see them push her down, throw her into the lockers. The words whispered behind her back were more brutal.

Nobody stepped in to see if she was okay after the others abused her. They turned away, hoping they wouldn't be the next target.

It was the end of my second week there. I knew I had to stop it. I knew if someone didn't, she wouldn't survive the year. In my last school I saw the outcome of not standing up.

I show up early on Friday, looking around the halls where I tended to spot you. There was something different in the air, a forlorn feeling that wouldn't leave. I run into your brother, asking him if you showed today.

"Yeah, she was with me when I parked."

I head to the lot, praying you are just waiting out the clock in the car. Instead of finding you in the car, I see you perched precariously on the branch overhanging the entry to the parking lot. Before you can take that final step, I run into the stream of cars, halting them in the street. You didn't see me in time and jump anyway. Luck was on my side; I managed to break your fall with body, only bruising my ass.

"Can we move out of the way of traffic? I'd rather not become roadkill so shortly after moving here."

Without answering, she gets up, pushing her blond hair behind her ears. Her purple eyes glaring at me behind the coke-bottle glasses.

"Who are you? Why did you interfere? Why do you even care?" The words are spat, each syllable more venomous than the last.

"I'm Emmett, your new bodyguard and friend."

* * *

Word count 287


	21. Week 28

This week's prompt: bit -dot- ly / 17f5VTD

Word count 176

* * *

Tonight my parents have sold me, signed their name on a contract promising my hand to their desire.

There are times I wonder which age I'm living in. The calendars say 2013, yet my parents act like it's still 1513. All I'm good for is marrying off, producing heirs. My desires are swept to sea.

I walk along the shore tonight, like all nights—the only time of day when I control all aspects of my life. Most evenings you're there. Some days you wave, others you shout over the roar of the sea.

It was the scruff on your cheeks that first intrigued me. The only others I've seen with such are the old men who waste away their last days fishing, telling stories of their glory days. Yet, you smile more than they do. The light in their eyes have dimmed, yet your eyes are as bright as the light behind you.

They aren't going to have the final say.

I run straight toward you, right through the waves. Your lighthouse guiding my desires.


	22. Week 31

Sorry I missed the last couple weeks. I was in a motorcycle accident and messed up my wrist pretty badly. Still pecking away at the keyboard with mostly one hand.

Two prompts this week. The first a quote from Confucius: "Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated."

The second can be found here: www -dot- picship -dot- com / pic-40486 -dot- html

* * *

Friday night with deep-fried Twinkies, what could possibly go wrong?

After walking through the woodcraft hall, I head for sustenance. No point in going to the fair if you aren't going to gorge on fried foods.

I'm standing in line for lemonade when I spot him laughing and holding hands with some girl. I've never seen my brother with such a dorky grin. Never seen him with a girl either. It explains why he wouldn't tell me his plans for tonight. I eventually move my eyes from him to the girl. At this distance, I can't make out her features, but her silhouette gives her away. I'd recognize her anywhere. How could I not? We'd only been dating for two years.

My stomach flips. Everything is fuzzy except for my brother's eyes shining at my girl. Without realizing it, Iend upstanding behind them. I don't know how or why my feet decided I needed to confront them, but he looks up, catches sight of me and pales. She stops giggling. I can imagine the confused look on her face. She glances behind her. A breath escapes her lungs. One clear word enters my ears over the ruckus.

"Rose?"

* * *

This ended up being 200 words exactly.


	23. tls 8-30

This flash was written for tehlemonadestand dot net's friday flash, so it's a little more risque.

prompt: bit dot ly / 1eqQ6P2

* * *

The grunting and "Oh, baby"'s from the television aren't giving me enough tonight. I'm not at half mast even though my favorite brunette is starring in this one. I haven't even bothered sliding my dick through the handy slit in my boxers.

One would think that with my washboard abs and green eyes I wouldn't be home alone on a Friday night. What most blatantly ignore is that intelligent men are just as likely to hate being objectified as much as women. So here I spend another Friday night after a failed outing at the bar with my porn collection.

The doorbell rings. Not even bothering with finding clothing, I open it. Before I can utter a single word, a feminine voice asks, "You're Edward, right? Some chick at the bar said you lived here. God, I hope I'm not at the wrong place." Her eyes drift over my bare chest as her words trail off.

"Yes, I'm Edward. What's it to you?" Her shirt tells me she works at the bar, but it's her hair and curves that have me thinking I'm dreaming. How could I have missed her? I know I would have chatted her up if I had spotted her.

Fuck, she now has a very good idea of how well endowed I'm not.

"You forgot your credit card."

I take it from her. "Thanks." I go to close the door when she stops me.

"You know, if you didn't always have a scowl on your face, you could find someone to help you out with that." She nods toward my dick and walks off.

I shut the door, banging my head against it. My left hand slips into my boxers, and I adjust myself. Any erection I could have made use of is now deflated.

* * *

TLS flashes can be a little longer. This one came in at the limit: 300 words.


End file.
